Hip hop love

MC Yogi - Give Love (Giving4Living Mix) from MC Yogi on Vimeo.

It has taken me into my late 30's to finally warm up to hip hop, and I'm still discerning, and not fond of most of it, but this one really deserves my ear, as a being of love, and a Mom.

Simple

I never thought I was a "still life" person, but I really like this one.  So beautifully simple.  Chardin, Glass of Water and a Coffee Pot, from 18'th century.

Strength, Mobility and Balance- all culminated this week!

The Mother Tree School

My little Reya is 2 1/2 now.  Today she had her first day at a Waldorf, in-home pre-school, called The Mother Tree, taught by the very kind teacher, Ms.Carolina Allen.  She loved it and can't wait to go back tomorrow.  I think I might love it even more than she does!

Lovin' It

We are SO happy to have a back yard!  After the past months, cooped up in an apartment, spring has come and we have an outdoor space to call our own!  The children are enlivened by the new sunshine, relative warmth and nature right out our back door!  We are home.

Remember this song?

Birdhouse in Your Soul - They Might Be Giants from They Might Be Giants on Vimeo.

These guys are touring now- that would be so fun!  Wish I was near one of those towns!

spores

Mold and mildew.  Those pics were taken weeks ago before it got really bad.  I have moldy guitar cases, keyboard and bass amp.  I have thrown away toy baskets and laundry hampers.  I have had an ailment in my chest for a week.  I am moving the day after tomorrow to this lovely, new-to-me little mold free (Please!) little house with wood floors, enough bedrooms, and a fenced back yard for my children.  No more apartment dwelling.  Now, the moving part- didn't I just do this 3 1/2 months ago?  Too tired and sick to do this, and I only have a few days to do all the packing, moving and cleaning for refund of deposit.  The new space will be so lovely, though,

and get this.  It is on the same street as one of my closest friends that I have loved dearly for 13 years!  Perfect!

More Booby Mama Art

Look at this!  I am so loving these findings of gorgeous breastfeeding women in European Art History.  This one is Charity With Four Children,  from the Baroque period, by Italian sculptor Gian Lorenzo Bernini 1627-28

Sunny playground day in February!

Today was a beautiful, sunny day.  This is a rarity in Oregon's winter, and when it happens, one must go outside immediately.  We did, and we had fun!

Bleeding Heart

Dear You know who you are,
I am so sad that I can't feel good about loving you anymore.  It's not that I don't love you- I do.  That is why I am so sad about it.  It is habitual to want to pick up the phone every time something slightly notable happens that I would tell someone about.  You would be that someone.  It is automatic to think of you every time I have a spare thought available.  It is second nature to have frequent fond thoughts and warm feelings for you at the tip of my mind and heart, and then I get so angry when a second later I remember that those thoughts and feelings are pointless and false because the hope is gone.  I know you now.  I was dreaming of your potential, but they were my dreams, not yours.  If I could have been your mother, and taken care of your little, innocent, baby self back then, before anyone else shaped you, then I could have held your hand and raised up the beautiful child parts of you to help you to grow into my notion of your potential.  Then the you that I like wouldn't be mixed in with the you that disturbs me so deeply.  This bizarre thinking leads to nowhere, as obviously it could never be possible, and if I had raised you then I would love you in a whole different way altogether.  This is the way that I wander when I try to make sense of it all, and my tears take turns with a chokey lump in the throat and a desire to eat chocolate and ice cream and fill myself with anything sweet that might feel like the sweetness I used to feel when I thought that one day it might work out to remain in love with you.
There goes a tear now.  A big, slow beginning of a cry, creeping a cold path on my cheek and chin, that could take a lifetime to squeeze out in it's entirety.  Goodbye love.  Please go now.
It always comes down to this song.